Philotus. I wonder on't; he was wont to shine at seven.
1175You must consider that a prodigal course
Is like the sun's; but not, like his, recoverable.
I fear 'tis deepest winter in Lord Timon's purse;
That is one may reach deep enough, and yet
Find little.
1180

Flavius. Ay,
If money were as certain as your waiting,
1220'Twere sure enough.
Why then preferr'd you not your sums and bills,
When your false masters eat of my lord's meat?
Then they could smile and fawn upon his debts
And take down the interest into their
1225gluttonous maws.
You do yourselves but wrong to stir me up;
Let me pass quietly:
Believe 't, my lord and I have made an end;
I have no more to reckon, he to spend.
1230

Flavius. If 'twill not serve,'tis not so base as you;
For you serve knaves.

Servilius. If I might beseech you, gentlemen, to repair some
other hour, I should derive much from't; for,
1245take't of my soul, my lord leans wondrously to
discontent: his comfortable temper has forsook him;
he's much out of health, and keeps his chamber.
And, if it be so far beyond his health,
Methinks he should the sooner pay his debts,
1250And make a clear way to the gods.

Timon. What, are my doors opposed against my passage?
Have I been ever free, and must my house
Be my retentive enemy, my gaol?
The place which I have feasted, does it now,
1260Like all mankind, show me an iron heart?